


Doctor Livingstone, I presume?

by dolores



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Exploration, F/M, M/M, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-08-31 19:05:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8590126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dolores/pseuds/dolores
Summary: Oz and Willow go exploring.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [snoopypez](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snoopypez/gifts).



> Originally posted in February 2004 for the Oz Ficathon, and subject to some minor revisions. Thanks to Kate for beta-reading.

Once or twice, after they discovered exactly what Tara meant to Willow, and exactly why it was Oz had wolfed out and attacked her, Buffy and Xander had asked a question. Did Willow think that Oz would have reacted the way he did if Tara had been another guy? Was it somehow worse for him because he'd lost Willow to a woman?

She answered only that she knew for certain Oz didn't care about that sort of thing. It was the fact he'd lost her, no matter to whom, and that was that. When they asked her how she could know for _certain_ she would just smile and say she did.

***

Ever since the brief appearance of her evil vampire self from another dimension -- not a phrase Willow ever enjoyed using, although it amused Xander no end -- she'd been a little paranoid about the apparent lesbian tendencies of her other self.

Giles was always saying that the vampire was both the demon and the human. The personality traits of the human, possibly quite latent, survived into the creature created. So there was a whole, enormous list of things which Willow could be stressing about. She probably would in the fullness of time.

But at that moment -- which is to say, a few weeks after Graduation, the first time she'd had the chance to process -- only that one thing was occupying her thoughts.

She summoned up the courage to discuss it with Oz, feeling somehow unable to confide in either Buffy or Xander. He didn’t even raise an eyebrow, and asked what she wanted to do about it. There was an answer to that question, but she prefaced it with a declaration of undying love and devotion. He'd smiled and told her, perfectly sincerely, that he loved her too – and, more importantly, trusted her completely. That confirmation received, she gave her response.

"I think maybe I should, y'know, explore my sexuality. But from a distance."

Oz blinked. "You got a particular plan of action?"

She took a deep breath and spoke in a rush. "I was thinking maybe we could possibly go to a, y’know, a strip joint."

He blinked again. "Sunnydale has one of those? Or is the Bronze diversifying?"

Willow giggled, relieved that he hadn’t reacted with horror of disgust. Though why she thought he would, this was Oz after all…

"No. But there must be one in LA. So, I thought maybe we could go down there, stay the night, visit the strip joint, see if naked girlies do it for me. And you'd be there, so it'd be like a shared experience."

He considered this for a moment. "I am willing to be supportive guy. And while naked women do hold some fascination for me, I hope you know it's not somewhere I'd go normally. 'Course Devon will never forgive me if he hears I went to one without him..."

She snorted. "Well, I'm really not planning to tell anyone. Especially not Devon."

"OK. It's a deal then. But won't we need ID?"

She smiled triumphantly and produced two cards from her pocket. "I got us some fakes."

He examined them. "High quality."

"I did them myself."

He leaned forward and kissed her nose. "That figures. So when do we go?"

***

The following weekend, the van pulled up outside a strip joint in Oxnard that Willow had found in the Yellow Pages. They’d left later than intended thanks to a false alarm – a panicked Giles had had them preparing for an apocalypse, only to reread the prophecy he’d found earlier that day and discover it referred to 1899 not 1999. The Watcher’s Diaries informed him the end of the world had indeed been nigh a century earlier, but one of Buffy’s many predecessors had saved the day. Giles had been very apologetic. 

By the time they were ready to set off it looked a little late to get to LA – but Oxnard was within reach, so here they were.

Willow had imagined that the club would be hidden in a back alley, with broken neon signs and the smell of rotting garbage. In reality, it was on a main street, tidy, with a fully functioning sign and no particular odour. Well, that she could discern -- Oz could probably tell her different. Just as she reached for the door handle she glanced at the flyposters on the wall and gasped. In the seat next to her, Oz followed her gaze and said, "oh."

A large, dog-eared and luminous pink poster informed the world that tonight was, at least in the club, "Ladies' Night!"

Willow slumped a little in her seat. "All this way and it's _guys_ that are stripping?"

"It would seem so."

She huffed. "We can’t get to LA now; not really. What a waste of a trip."

There was a slight pause and then Oz spoke. "Not necessarily."

"There's another strip joint in Oxnard?"

"Not that I know of. But that wasn't what I meant."

"It wasn't?"

"I've been doing some thinking, after what you said. About my own sexuality."

“What?” She sat up and gave him a slightly wild-eyed stare. "You - you think you might be gay too?"

Oz thumbed the steering wheel. "I don't think so. But it’s crossed my mind – before today, I mean. Guess you don’t hang around with Devon as much as I do, with my sense of smell, and not wonder. I mean, he really does exude a lot of pheromones. Also? I've never seen a naked guy outside of the locker room, and seeing as I never really liked sports it wasn't like if I spent any more time there than I had to. So I'm thinking maybe I should. As an academic exercise."

Her initial burst of shock gave way to other emotions, and Willow found herself overwhelmingly curious. "I trust you," she said, "so if you want, I'm game. Plus I guess this is still exploration for me. Of a sort."

Oz nodded. "And this way I don't feel so guilty about leaving Devon behind."

"Hey, you never know. He might be even more jealous."

"A fair point. Actually, knowing his ego he might even be on the stage."

They got out of the van and closed in on the entrance. Just before they got within hearing range Oz paused and said, "you realise I might have to pretend to be gay to get in."

The bouncer took one brief look at Oz's dyed hair and painted nails, another at their ID cards then let them in without comment. Willow had a fit of giggles; Oz merely shrugged.

It was dark inside, but for the illuminated stage. Groups of excitable women, mostly in later middle age, caterwauled excitedly from several tables. They took a booth off to one side, hidden in semi-shadow so they could see the stage without being seen. A bored looking waitress took their order and they waited for the acts to appear.

The first stripper was big, with long, greasy hair and wearing a cop's uniform. He gyrated to _Big Spender_ and drizzled baby oil onto his chest. Willow tried to avoid looking at him, and in her peripheral vision, Oz looked more puzzled than in any way attracted. The women screamed.

"Feeling anything?" she whispered.

"No. You?"

"Really not."

The second was equally as large, with a buzzcut and an army uniform. He performed much the same routine, except this time it was to the tune of _Born In the USA_.

Oz remarked over the din created by the women that this was a crime against Bruce Springsteen, and otherwise seemed as unmoved as before.

When the third stripper stumbled onto the stage, he was evidently far less confident than the first two. The theme to _A Summer Place_ suddenly played, and after a moment of trembling on the stage, he began to awkwardly sway and thrust his hips. This was a slower performance; more sensual, or at least it was meant to be.

Willow frowned. "I never thought of this song as stripper music."

"You'd be surprised," Oz said, almost to himself.

The stripper was wearing a cowboy costume, the ten-gallon hat pulled low, obscuring his face. He was thinner than his predecessors, and looked younger, and Willow noticed Oz looked less puzzled and slightly more interested now. She had to admit that this guy wasn't bad looking, so he perhaps had possibilities. Plus the nervousness was quite cute in a way.

Moments later the hat was removed, and both Willow and Oz reacted with extreme surprise: he raised both eyebrows and she gasped, "Xander!"

Thankfully, the music and the hollering of the women was more than enough to mask Willow’s voice, and Xander remained oblivious to their presence.

They sat in silence for a while, watching in amazement as Xander danced in front of them, shrugging off his leather vest and slowly unbuttoning his plaid shirt.

"Dude."

"Yuh- _huh_."

"Did you know he was doing this?"

"Would I really have come here if I had?"

He nodded. "Fair point. Um. Do you want to leave?"

Part of her wanted to run straight out. But then...

"He might see us. Which would make things worse. Do you wanna go?"

Oz's gaze didn't leave Xander, now stripped to his waist. "In the spirit of sexual exploration, I feel it might be beneficial to at least see this through to its conclusion."

Willow looked from Oz to Xander and back to Oz again. The look he gave Xander – it wasn't the same look he gave her when she danced around his room in her underwear, but it was a close relation. She felt a little light-headed. 

A thought occurred to her, and, surprised by her boldness, she reached down and fondled Oz through his jeans. She found he was hard, and she felt a surge of excitement, heart thrumming in her chest. This was something she had not expected from tonight at all. 

Oz turned to look at her, apprehensive. She smiled and kissed his nose. "Keep watching, it’s okay. Exploration, remember."

So he did.

Xander was down to a pair of leather chaps, cowboy boots and what appeared to be a very spangly and well-filled g-string.

Another thought occurred to Willow, and it made her a little giddy. Slowly, she returned her hand to Oz's crotch and unzipped his fly. She moved her hand in until she found his cock and fished it out.

Oz made no move to stop her, only gripping the table with both hands and continuing to stare at Xander.

Under the table, she began to jerk him off, slowly. With her other hand she rummaged in her bag until she found a little tube of moisturising cream and somehow managed to squirt some onto her palm, before transferring it to the other. She and Oz hadn't been physical for very long, it was true, but she already knew the basics.

Xander had lost the chaps and was having notes stuffed into the g-string by several adoring women. He seemed to have gained confidence as he'd gone along, and was busy rubbing a nipple with one hand.

After a time, he moved back to the centre of the stage, and after transferring the notes to his hat seemed to be about to finish the show. Willow picked up speed.

Xander whipped off the g string as the music reached its climax. At that moment, so did Oz, shuddering into Willow's hand and spraying cum on the underside of their table, whimpering as he tried not to make too much noise. Not that he would have been heard; the women's screams were louder than ever before.

The lights extinguished and Xander disappeared stage left.

Willow and Oz sat for a moment in silence, Willow wiping herself and then Oz on a Kleenex.

He leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. "Thank you. New territory has definitely been charted."

"You're welcome. Shouldn't we be at least a little freaked out right now?"

He zipped himself up nonchalantly. "Never been my style. But just so you know, I don't plan on leaving you for Xander."

"That's good. And I don't plan on leaving you for Buffy. Although I'd still like to go to a strip club with girls. Maybe not this one though."

"Agreed. I assume we're absolutely never going to mention this to Xander?"

"Wow. Can you even imagine the horror of _that_ conversation?"

"Not really. As it is I'm going to live in fear of Buffy getting all psychic again."

Willow's expression said she hadn't even thought of that.

They left as soon as it felt safe to do so, and found a motel for the night.

In bed, after a coupling that had felt as intense as she’d ever remembered, Oz stroked Willow's face and said, "I'd still love you even if you were a little gay. Or a lot gay."

She kissed him. "Now I know you're a little gay I think it makes me love you more."

Willow knew that for certain.


End file.
